Dark Moon
by Pansk
Summary: It was just a normal, boring day at Angel Investigations when a shy customer walks in and runs out without saying a word. Later, Cordelia has a vision that leads back to the young female. Hilarity and chaos ensues.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

**Disclaimer and ****Acknowledgments****:** This is a work of pure fanfiction. There is an OC character (and will be more OC characters) inserted into the story. I am not looking for flamers. Go flame someone who doesn't have a spine. Seriously.

Angel (copyright) fully to Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt.

Thanks is extended to Charisma Carpenter, David Boreanaz and the rest of the cast for giving life to these characters. Along to my friend, Wren, who pressured me to write this silly little story.

* * *

The night was something that humans would never understand.

Fortunately, he wasn't human.

He sat on the edge of his bed, looking down at his hands. They were palm-up towards him. He stared at them a moment and then grimaced and turned them palm-down. His gaze turned upon the floor for a moment. Then he stared off into nothing, thoughts trying in vain to form in his mind, and were shot down. He literally thought of nothing.

Not of the murders he'd committed so long ago.

Not of the people he'd saved yesterday.

Not of his friends.

Not of _her_.

Nothing.

Just that empty white space.

His head bent down as his eyes closed slowly. A sigh escaped from his lips as his hands reached up to cradle his head amidst thoughts of this nothingness. His body ached from a pain he'd always known. He shivered and shook.

He was a monster.

That's all he would ever be.

To anyone he'd ever known.

His shoulders shook as he struggled not to break down from the weight of it all, from the pain that radiated from the core of his being. From that, that _soul_ he possessed. He was still hated, never trusted.

Sure, they looked up to him.

He was their "leader".

Yet they never fully trusted him.

Because of what he was.

What he'd done.

Even after all of his fighting, all of his years towards atonement. What was he to do? Would he also be denied a shred of comfort?

_Buffy_…

Even _she_ had moved on.

_She_ had found someone else. _She_ had left him in the grave, so to speak. It wasn't fair. He wanted that too, craved it. Every fiber of his non-living being screamed out for someone to comfort him.

Would his atonement ever lead to anything? Or was it just another dark moon?


	2. Chapter One

**CHAPTER ONE**

**

* * *

****Disclaimer and ****Acknowledgments****:** This is a work of pure fanfiction. There is an OC character (and will be more OC characters) inserted into the story. I am not looking for flamers. Go flame someone who doesn't have a spine. Seriously.

Angel (copyright) fully to Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt.

Thanks is extended to Charisma Carpenter, David Boreanaz and the rest of the cast for giving life to these characters. Along to my friend, Wren, who pressured me to write this silly little story.

* * *

It was just another day at Angel Investigations. Just another simple day where everything was slow, boring and –

The soft jingle of the bell and the wave of herbal scent spilled into the office, which instantly attracted the attention of three persons. Cordelia, who was sitting at her desk doing nothing in particular, instantly leapt up and tackled the customer in her excitement. The young female that the brunette had attacked yelped in distress and collapsed on the ground.

"Cordelia!" a deep voice called out from the room as a man dressed in all black stepped out to see what harm his employee had wrought. He was pale in completion, as if he didn't go out into the sunlight often. A second male followed him out, this male was dressed nicely, and a pair of glasses shifted down the bridge of his nose as he hurried out to the females.

"Cordelia! Get off of her!" the dark male said, grabbing the female by the back of her shirt and pulling her up off of the potential client. The brunette got up and then looked down at the female who cowered on the ground as if scared she would be beaten. A whimper passed through her soft lips as she huddled there, in a patch of fading sunlight, shivering.

"Cor!" the dark male glared at the brunette who had the decency to look properly ashamed. He turned towards the female and hesitated; he couldn't just go and grab her, simply because his hand would just burst into flame.

And _that_ was never a good thing.

The well-dressed man stooped down to help the unknown female to her feet. She shivered at the contact. Her eyes were closed as she turned her head away. She abruptly pulled her hand out of his and raced out the door.

Both males turned to glare at the female at the same time. She visibly withered under their annoyed looks and threw her hands into the air. She turned and looked at the plant behind her and busied herself with fixing the ailing plant leaves.

"Cordy," the dark male repeated, "I know we haven't had an assigned job for at least a month, but that doesn't give you the right to assault anyone who comes in. You scared her off." With that he turned and headed back to his office. He was purposefully avoiding the splash of faded sunlight on the ground.

Wesley looked at Cordelia and scoffed as their boss retreated back to the room they had affectionately named the 'bat office'. He then let out an exasperated breath as Cordy pointedly ignored him.

"Cordelia…" Wes started to speak, but the brunette cut him off.

"Can it Wes! I don't want to hear about it!" she snapped angrily.

Wesley threw her an annoyed glance and then his eyes turned towards the now empty doorway. He thought of the girl for a moment. It struck him that he couldn't remember much about her. _Huh_, he thought, _how odd_. Wesley looked down at the desk in front of him and decided to continue catching up on his demon research – not that he had much else to do.

Meanwhile Cordy was busy being annoyed with herself, her co-worker, her boss and the fact that she had just driven off a potential paying client. Muttering angrily to herself, she sat down at her desk and groaned with boredom.

Nothing had been happening lately at work, and her acting career was still in a slump. Nothing was going on – "Nothing!" she cried aloud in frustration. Cordelia grumbled angrily, almost wishing that she would have a vis—

"AHH!" she cried out, her head slammed down on her desk as she was thrown into a torrent of pain and vague images. "Ah!" she screamed again, dimly aware that two sets of hands were holding her.

A demon, human-like in complexion and tall, was being attacked by a demon with fangs and claws – A cat? – Cordy felt blows reining upon every inch of her body, it struck her as odd that she felt blows and not slashes or bites. She realized that it was the cat-like animal that was under attack and not the demon. She smelled blood and a strange herbal scent that seemed familiar. She saw the address flash before her eyes as the vision let her go just as suddenly as it had appeared.

As her vision-stung eyes cleared, she opened them and winced. "Cordy, are you okay?" Angel asked her, Wesley hovered just over the vampire's broad shoulder.

She almost laughed and then winced, "Pain killers?" she asked hopefully, a glass of ice-cold water and two pain pills were placed into her hands. She smiled and gratefully swallowed them up in one gulp.

"And a nice glass of water," Angel told her affectionately.

She smiled at him and then grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, "Okay, this is going to sound a little crazy, but you're going to be looking for an injured cat-like demon," Cordelia told them. Angel and Wes shared a look. "The cat-thing is her," she handed them the address on a piece of paper, "but it seems hurt and scared, I'd suggest you take something to muzzle it with, maybe some rope?" she added, her brown eyes loaded worried as she looked at her friends.

"I'll get the rope and some supplies," Wes commented and headed towards the storage cabinet.

Angel grinned at Cordelia, his dark brown eyes brightening, "Catching kitties is something I'm good at." Cordy stared at him, his grin slowly fell and then he coughed in embarrassment.

"Okay, maybe in the 13th century, but right now? You avoid women like they were infected plague!" she replied sarcastically. "Don't ever do that again," she warned him, then turned her attention to the returning Wesley, she handed him the address and added, "Hurry, I have the feeling that this cat-creature isn't going to last long against the demon."

Angel looked at her, nodded his head slowly, "Wes and I will find it," he promised her. Then he grabbed a small hand axe and headed out the door with Wes hot on his heels.


	3. Chapter Two

**CHAPTER TWO

* * *

**

**Disclaimer and ****Acknowledgments****:** This is a work of pure fanfiction. There is an OC character (and will be more OC characters) inserted into the story. I am not looking for flamers. Go flame someone who doesn't have a spine. Seriously.

Angel (copyright) fully to Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt.

Thanks are extended to Charisma Carpenter, David Boreanaz and the rest of the cast for giving life to these characters. Along to my friend, Wren, who pressured me to write this silly little story.

* * *

The car door slammed shut as the two figures of Wesley and Angel got out. Then Angel stretched out his senses, his nose twitched as he searched for the creature. He caught onto Wes's puzzlement. He glanced at the ex-Watcher and spoke, "You see anything?" he asked. Wes shook his head slowly.

"Angel," Wesley said, "I can't imagine why the Powers That Be would send us after a cat demon." He shook his head slowly and straightened his suit carefully. Angel glanced at him once more and then started walking. As he walked around the corner of a building the scent hit him, he inhaled deeply and analyzed the smell.

Fresh blood.

Dried blood.

Pending death.

Gripping the small axe in his hand, he started to walk briskly towards the smell. He focused on a herbal scent mixed in with the blood – it was odd. Angel felt as though he should have known it, or he'd come in contact with it in his past. It slipped his mind as soon as he came to a stop in front of a dumpster. The perfume of the herbs and blood was the strongest here. Angel gave Wes a look and then effortlessly flipped open the lid.

Wes was sent reeling from the combination of stench and the horrible state of the mangled body inside. Angel could hear the blood still moving in the cat's unmoving body. He caught the slight flutter of air as the feline inhaled and exhaled laboriously – obviously in pain. He frowned, this was no ordinary cat, it was roughly three feet long and two feet tall at the shoulder. The fur was dirty and a color was unable to be guessed. Alarms went off in his mind as he studied the motionless cat.

"Rope," Angel murmured, reaching back so Wes could place the material into his hands. He grasped it and climbed inside of the dumpster, he then fashioned a rope muzzle over the cat's head to prevent it from biting him, should it awaken. Angel then hauled the cat out and onto his shoulders. He grunted in surprise at how light the animal was.

"You need to eat more." He told the female cat (for he was quite sure now that it was, indeed, female). As he inhaled, Angel scented that herbal scent once more and frowned. It was so familiar…

"Angel, we should probably go," Wes informed him, dashing Angel's thoughts. The vampire nodded distractedly and they headed back to the car. Angel plopped the cat into the back seat and climbed in. His hands worked over the animal's body, feeling for the gashes he would have to clean and found several deep gashes that could potentially be life-threatening if not treated.

Angel felt his car roar to life as Wes started it up and drove. Angel monitored the cat's breathing and drummed his fingers on the window ledge as they drove back.

* * *


	4. Chapter Three

**CHAPTER THREE

* * *

**

**Disclaimer and ****Acknowledgments****:** This is a work of pure fanfiction. There is an OC character (and will be more OC characters) inserted into the story. I am not looking for flamers. Go flame someone who doesn't have a spine. Seriously.

Angel (copyright) fully to Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt.

* * *

The car pulled up in front of their office as Angel got out and turned to grab the still unconscious cat. He scooped her up, cradled the feline to his chest and carried her into the office building. Angel by passed Cordelia with a simple, "Wes will explain," and escaped into the elevator to his underground home.

Wesley entered the office a few minutes after Angel and the cat. He was instantly stopped by Cordy, "Alright!" she told him, staring down the male, "You are going to tell me why Angel has a lion in his arms," she growled.

Wes looked like he'd rather be someone else, and then nodded, "Yes. Well, Angel and I went to where your vision indicated and we found that 'lion' in a dumpster. Angel decided to bring it home."

Cordy stared at him like he had grown a third head. Then she growled, "So he brought it home! It probably has fleas!" she cried, exasperatedly throwing her hands into the air and walking to the elevator.

Wesley followed her as they descended down into the "bat cave". The first thing they heard was the sound of water running. Curious, the duo poked their heads into the bathroom to find Angel with his sleeves rolled up, doctoring an unconscious cat. Angel was murmuring softly, washing the cat and wrapping up the cleaned gashes with bandages.

Cordy knocked softly on the door before she and Wes entered the room, they stared down at the badly mauled cat.

"Y'ouch," Cordelia winced as she saw how many bandages Angel had already doctored the feline with.

Angel glanced up at her for a moment, and then nodded his head, "Hey, Wes," Angel said, putting on another bandage, "you know what kind of creature she is?" he asked.

Wes looked at a complete loss, "I-I'm not sure, it looks like a were-cat, but those are extremely rare…" he started, studying at the cat. His gaze shifted to Cordelia and he raised an eyebrow at her expression, "Yes?" he asked pompously, Cordy glared at him and then looked at Angel.

"She smells like the girl who came in earlier," Cordy said, "with that herbal scent. What are you using to wash her Angel?" Cordelia asked the healing vampire.

Angel shook his head, "I'm not using any," he went on, "The smell is coming from her." He looked thoughtful, and then stood up.

"Wes, I need you to run down to the store and get me some raw steaks-" Angel began, but was cut off by Cordelia.

"We get steaks? I love this job!" she cheered happily, pumping her fist into the air triumphantly.

Angel lifted an eyebrow at her, "You done?" he questioned, she nodded, "The steaks are for the cat," Cordelia fixed up her face to snarl at him and he clapped a hand over her mouth. "Wake her up and I will feed you to her," he growled; half in play and half seriously as he glanced at the still-sleeping animal.

"Alright. Wes, get some steaks and toss them into the bathroom. I'm going to find something to secure the door, because I'm guessing this cat won't be happy when she wakes up and finds that she's locked in a bathroom." He concluded and stared at them meaningfully for a few moments. Wesley nodded promptly; Angel stared at Cordy until she finally nodded as well. He breathed a sigh of relief when they left his bathroom and went back upstairs. He cast one more look at the sleeping cat and then closed the door quietly and barred it with a chair. He set up a sentry position on his couch with a glass of pigs blood.

Wesley came down some time later with several raw steaks. After making sure that the cat-demon was still sleeping off her injuries, Angel tossed in some of the steaks into the bathroom and locked it up as he had done before. Angel placed the other steaks in the fridge, then settled down and waited.

His thoughts returned to where they had been yesterday. Withdrawing into himself, thinking of nothing at all as he finally slipped off into an uneasy sleep. The last thing he remembered was the feel of the cat's fur under his fingers and that herbal scent in his nose.


	5. Chapter Four

**CHAPTER FOUR**

* * *

**Disclaimer and ****Acknowledgments****:** This is a work of pure fanfiction. There is an OC character (and will be more OC characters) inserted into the story. I am not looking for flamers. Go flame someone who doesn't have a spine. Seriously.

Angel (copyright) fully to Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt.

Thanks is extended to Charisma Carpenter, David Boreanaz and the rest of the cast for giving life to these characters. Along to my friend, Wren, who pressured me to write this silly little story.

**

* * *

**

She awoke in a strange place. Her first instinct was to get up and challenge whatever was keeping her. She felt something binding her mouth. To her horror she realized it was a muzzle. With a muted snarl, she reached her paws up and clawed it off her face.

A snarl broke loose from her throat as she vowed vengeance against the one who had tried to cage her. That snarl turned into a whimper as she found out just how badly her body was damaged. Her golden eyes opened and stared down at her mutilated bod—

She was bandaged. Inhaling deeply she growled as the unfamiliar scent on her fur rose into her nostrils. Her growl turned into a snarl as she struggled to her feet again. Wincing, the cat managed to find her legs and stand up and found that her whole body was just one single ache. Resisting the urge to cry out, the cat sat down on her haunches and proceeded to (as slowly and carefully as she could) lick the scent off of her fur.

The bathing soothed her immediately, it was like her mother had always said, "_Grooming is the only way to relieve any and all stress. Only for a moment, though."_ Ah, how clearly she remembered the sound of her mother's voice, the softness of her fur. Biting back a cry of anguish at her mother's recent death, Quilin busied herself with untangling a snarl on her belly.

Unfortunately for the cat, bathtub bottoms do not provide adequate traction and therefore the cat slipped sideways and landed hard on her and let out an ear-splitting shriek of pain.

She writhed there for a few moments, wallowing in the pain. Her ears flicked at the door, dimly aware that something was moving out there, something that wanted to come in. With a snarl, she forced herself to her feet, gritting her teeth to get through the pain. Whoever it was came slowly through the door. She let loose a snarl that was part anger, and part pain.


End file.
